


Fleeting Moment

by Vixx2pointOh



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Not Canon Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pretending canon would be so brave as to show these two getting down, Smut, Thunderwar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 12:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19974262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixx2pointOh/pseuds/Vixx2pointOh
Summary: He saw her.She saw him.They were tired of hiding these raging desires...Basically PWP and loads of sweat.





	Fleeting Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I heard Jane was coming back.  
> Jane was boring.
> 
> So I wrote this. Hope you like it xox

Sweat.

Sticky and damp, misted against her red, flushed cheeks and gluing strands of her dark hair to her temples like twisted tendrils.

Sweat.

She could taste it on her lips as her tongue rolled with steeled focus across them, dry and brittle as she struggled to breathe.

Sweat.

Sliding down the smooth curves of her breasts and resting in her navel, and rolling down the curve of her spine to settle in the dimples at the small of her back. She could smell it on the air, heavy and musty, hinted with lavender.

She caught her breath, rapid and shaky in her throat, holding it for mere seconds to centre herself before she gripped the unmalleable shaft, lifted the iron training sword, and swung.

The tightly woven straw head flung off its body and tumbled unceremoniously to the doorway.

It was only then Lady Sif stepped back and straightened her shoulders.

“I would hate to be him,” Thor quipped as he caught the rolling head under his boot.  
Sif brushed the back of her hand across her sodden brow and smiled impishly at the Crown Prince of Asgard. “I make no promises.”

The Goddess of War fed her arm out from behind the plate shield and it dropped to the ground with a _clunk_ that echoed off the stone walls. The balance was off on the shield and she squinted down with distaste at the replacement the armourers had offered her.

Thor kicked the decapitated straw head towards Sif's feet as he took a few steps into the empty training room. Most preferred to practice in the grounds outside in far corner of the golden palace, but Sif preferred the solitude she found in the unused, dank and dusty room in the far reaches of the palace few knew existed and even fewer venture; but he always knew to find her there.

It was a place she could strip off her plated chest armour, vambraces, and pauldrons; which he saw piled in the corner of the room, and she could move with the unencumbered grace of a dancer – albeit with the ferocity of a warrior.

“Your form was off,” he remarked offhandedly, a smirk twitching behind his scruff.  
Sif scoffed with a laugh. “My form was not off.”  
“It was,” Thor teased as he picked up the weighty shield with one hand and swung it effortlessly onto the rack behind him.

“Oh,” she quipped, “you're serious?” A smile drew up one side of her naturally rouge lips. “With all due respect Prince, my form wasn’t off.”

Thor's smirked matched hers as he took another step forward. Her form wasn't off, it never was and there wasn't another maiden in all of Asgard who could match her in battle, in fact he would stake money that most men within the realm, if not all, would not see victory against her either.

But, he enjoyed the comical smile she pandered him with; and if he knew her well enough, she was sure to bite to his next remark.

He took two wooden training sticks off the rack and chucked one towards her. Sif caught it without as much as a blink. He tapped the end of her stick with the end of his own as his smile grew. “Your form was off,” he insisted puckishly.

She twisted the light rod easily in her hands before smacking the two ends together with a crack that resonated off the walls.  
“Was not.”  
Thor held his stick horizontally with a lazy wrist before he tossed it in the air and caught it parallel.  
“Was.” He tapped her stick a little harder; _challenge set down._

Her lips furrowed and her brow crinkled while her eyes stayed steely and focused on him. Effortlessly she turned the 6ft long stick in one hand like a cheerleading baton before she smacked the ends into his broad shoulders, one after the other. _Challenge accepted._

He feigned a fleeting moment of pain before he winked off her attack. He raised his stick and she blocked it from striking.

His head tipped and his opal eyes glinted with an extra helping of puckishness as he aimed for the other shoulder. She blocked him again, pushing back with just enough force to make his back foot shift half an inch.

“Tell me my form was perfect and I won't embarrass you any further, my Prince,” she teased before she blew a few locks of ebony hair back from her face.  
His eyes smiled while his head shook; blonde locks spilling over his imposing shoulders.

Solid wood striking equally-solid wood ricocheted like thunder cracks in the small room as they blocked and struck out all while moving backwards and forwards in a scuffle of shoes of stone.

Rasped breaths and panted huffs filled the room with warm and sticky air as each landed sharp blow for blow, though his never struck her body.  
“You're pulling your punches my Prince or has the Palace parlour made you slow?” Sif smirked as her stick nipped the edge of his brawny thigh. Even through his leather pants he felt the bite of her strike and his lips winced in response.  
“Yield,” she breathed, her lips glossed with her own wet breaths.

His eyes were like a magnet for her own and for a moment she lost herself in the painted blues of them; letting herself imagine all the quiet thoughts she had so often desired while the moon hung heavy in cloudless skies and she lay alone in her bed... _wondering_.

Captivated she lost herself in those heavenly thoughts of a friend, a prince, to warm her bed and take her body. But those thoughts shattered like dropped pottery as his stick tapped the backs of her knees, catching her off guard and spilling her onto the floor.

She blinked up at his bemused smile as he offered his large hand to help her up.

But she wasn’t to be so easily bested and with a last show of strength, Sif brought her leg up, coiled it around his calf and tipped him over onto the ground beside her.

His landing knocked the air from his lungs and before he could regain it, Sif was atop him, her body straddling his chest, with one of his arms pinned under her naked knee, slick with her sweat, while the other she pinned with both her hands above his head.

Her lips were dangerously close to his, and her dark hair spilled onto his ruddy cheek as she leaned even closer. “Yield,” she panted huskily.

He didn’t struggle against her hold but as he swam and basked in the warmth of her eyes he did something quite unexpected. He lifted his head and he kissed her.

His lips melted against hers, with a delectable shiver down his spine as her light saltiness melded into his. He could feel her breasts tightening against her leather vest and pushing into the thin fabric of his tunic as she kissed him just as deeply back.

But, just as surprisingly as it started, it severed, unexplained and incomplete.

She flew off him, two nervous hands brushing down the skirt of her outfit as her eyes made tracks in the dirt on the floor.  
“Forgive me,” Sif lamented as she backed away from him slowly, crimson dripping down her throat and disappearing behind a curtain of red silk and tanned leather.

She walked hastily towards the door, but Thor, moving much faster got there before her.  
“There is nothing to forgive, I kissed you,” he spoke softly, barely a whisper, as though the stones may betray them; to whom or to what end he did not know.  
She touched a tentative finger to her pouted bottom lip, soothing across it slowly.

“You kissed me,” she sighed, her eyes widening a little more with each word spoken.  
“And did you kiss me back?” Thor enquired.  
She blinked downward as her arms fell stiffly at her sides. “My prince,” she started, no doubt to offer another apology he didn’t want to hear and she didn’t mean.

He stepped to the side of the door, offering her an unencumbered exit, but not without offering her a choice first.  
“You may go and I will yield to you and offer you my sincerest apology,” Thor began.  
“Or?” Sif interrupted as her fingers toyed with the edge of her skirt.  
Two knuckles brushed gently down her cheek. “Or, you can stay and we won't apologise for anything.”

She took a step towards the door and his heart sank, until she slid it closed and dropped the arm down over the door, sealing them in the deserted room.

He wasted no time pouncing on her lips as the two of them feel heavy against the oak door. It was as though years of restraint had come complete unravelled in a rough, frantic, and demolish tangle of lips. He bite her plump bottom lip and her nails clawed feverishly at the back of his neck.

Thor grabbed her waist and with a playful squeeze he could feel her hips writhing beneath her light armour. He lifted her with ease and her legs coiled and constricted around his waist and their lips stayed entangled and their kisses remained wild.  
He walked her with a few long strides to a wooden table set against the back wall of the narrow room. Blindly he fumbled to clear the bench and an old iron training sword and a pair of bone and leather gauntlets crashed to the floor, but not even the deafening sound could tear them from feasting on each other’s lips.

Her ass met with the lip of the table and she pushed herself back enough to find tenement there as Thor spread her legs wide enough for his hips to nestle tightly between them. Breathless, they broke back from their amorous lip-battle and starred silently at each other for a few drawn moments.

Her fingers ducked beneath the gauzy fabric of his tunic to discover his rippling muscles slicked with the viscosity of his sweat. Tentative strokes of her fingers became more brash and eager as his eyes softened with pleasure and a flaky sigh flittered from his lips.

His thick but tentative digits worked nimbly to loosen the leather cord that bound her vest closed in the front. She sucked in a sharp breath as his knuckled grazed the rounds of her breasts, sheathed behind her billowing red, silk blouse. The fabric did little to hide her coiled peaks which he teased with the pads of his thumbs as her leather vest hung loose down her arms.

He leaned down and caught one between his lips, teasing it with the tip of his tongue before he nipped the small bud.

Sif hissed in response while her nails embedded into his chiselled chest. In one fluid move he tore the billowing shirt off his head and threw it to the ground. His hand skimmed up the inside of her silken leg, gliding over a thin misting of prickles as he inched ever closer to her thrumming sex.

He imagined all the times he'd watched her dressed in her battle armour, infatuated and enamoured; her tight pants hugging onto her long, strong legs and the breast plate she wore, a warrior in her own right.

But she wasn't wearing those at that moment and her shorts beneath her skirt pulled off with one tug. His knuckles graze the outer lips of her sex as he inhaled her heady aroma; he could taste her readiness on the air.

Drawn to her scent, Thor began to drag his lips in languid kisses up the inside of her leg, but when he reached the top of her soft, supple, ivory thigh, Sif grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled his head up. She kissed him fiercely, but broke the demonically passionate kiss just as suddenly.

“If I am but a fleeting moment, I beg of you end this now,” she begged, her voice frayed at the edges, almost brittle.  
Thor cupped her head between his sinewy hands and brushed his calloused thumbs across her rosy cheeks, creating a feverish friction that had Sif sighing pleasantly.  
Her keen blue eyes settled into the lively shades of his own.  
“You are my waking moments and my last moments before my eyes close and then you are my dreams.”

A hand trickled down the crimson threads of her neck and gently guided her blouse off the cusp of her shoulder, exposing her silken slopes and her wine-hued nipple. He kissed slowly and beguiled along the jutting line of her collar bone as Sif rode her sex brazenly against his resplendently thick chest.

His warm, cavernous mouth found her breast and devoured it with sinfully indulgent groans that reverberated down her body and make her core quiver. He lapped and sucked and nurtured her full breast tenderly with his mouth while his hand cupped and kneaded the crescent.

Sif’s hands deftly unbelted his trousers and the heels of her feet scrambled to pull them down to his knees. His rigid cock sprung free and she gripped it with a slender and clenched fist. She traced the throbbing vein on the underside with the pad of her thumb, making his salacious moans even more guttural and chanting.

She ran a single stroke through his wet slit as she inched him closer until his throbbing cock was pulsing against her dropped sex. She pumped him hard and fast against her clit making them both sob out desperate moans. He kept feasting on her breast, but with far more vigour as his bristled jaw grazed her milky skin, marring it with a dappled red rash she would wear for a few days.

His arousal bled into hers as Sif beat the head of his swollen cock in tiny circles around her sensitive, pearled clit, until it was all too much for either of them to endure a moment longer. He shadowed her hand with his own as they guided his length to her pulsing entrance. He sluiced into her wet sex as her hand moved to brace her arched body on the table.

Her cushioned walls gripped his shaft as he plunged forward, stretching her body around his breadth until Thor was completely seated in her.

He stilled his cock inside her while his tips of his thick fingers sought and found her budded clit. He toyed with in it fluid circles, relishing the way her body convulsed and spasmed around him as he sped up and slowed down.

Her free hand twisted into his honey locks, with her nails gripping into his scalp as she crashed her lips against him in a kiss that was a gnashing of lips and a battle of tongues. Moans permeated the air, mixing with the moist, heavenly aroma of sex; wild, fitful sex.

They ground into each other with tiny motions as Thor settled inside her and Sif stretched around him. She bit his lower lip as her darkened eyes focused on his curiously wide ones.

“Move,” she ordered as she rucked into him.  
He did just so, pulling slowly out until all that remained was the top of his manhood and when her tongue flirted over her swollen, scarlet lips Thor plunged forward, nearly lifting her rear from the table. She cried out in pleasure, his name dripping in hot breaths from her pouted mouth.

“Faster,” she begged with hazy eyes.  
Once again, Thor obeyed and thrust himself in and out relentlessly. Her juices made for a frictionless thrust while he continued to pinch and tease her clit.

“Thor,” she sobbed, her eyes frantic and her core pulled almost unbearably tight.  
He kissed her, tender and faintly, before he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “Come apart Sif, come apart for me.”

Like a shaking eruption, Sif came with his name screamed silently from her lips and her shaking body impaled on his perfectly sinewy cock.

Sticky warmth enveloped him as he rested inside of her to revel in her climax before he continued thrusting into it. Salacious wet sounds filled the room and when Thor climaxed a few moments later, his lips were against hers.

When the last shadows of her quivering orgasm past, Thor rested his head against her breast and listened intently to the _thump_ of her racing heartbeat.  
“Am I but a fleeting moment?” he asked, showing a flickering moment of vulnerability as Sif stroked a hand through his hair.  
She coaxed his eyes upward. “Not at all my Prince,” she answered with a warmly kind smile.

After a few languid minutes and after his cock had softened inside her, they dressed with coy smiles and unspoken promises.

It was Sif who walked to the door first.  
She turned in the doorway wearing a coquettish smile.

“Perhaps though my Prince,” she started, pausing to nibble on the edge of her bottom lip before she soothed her tongue across it, a display that Thor couldn’t help but hungrily watch. “Your form was off.”  
He grinned devilishly as he stepped towards her, his hands aching to touch her.

She let her fingertip graze the backs of his hands before she stepped back, out of reach. “I could offer some training tonight, my room, once the moon is at its peak.”

She smiled, the type of smile that plumed into her cheeks and listened into her eyes, before she left him... hopeful and speechless.

Like only she could.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter // Tumblr @someonesaidcake 
> 
> Let me know what you thought xo


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